Never Say Never
by GundamGurl17
Summary: Jane never gets sick." So Lisbon thinks. But what happens when Jane catches a cold, and gives it to the rest of the team? Jisbon and Rigsby/Van Pelt. FINALLY COMPLETE! I will answer your reviews ASAP!
1. Never Say Never

**A/N:** Wow, it has been awhile, hasn't it? And here I am, posting a little oneshot instead of working on one of my longer fics. Bad author, bad! Oh well, what can I say? This was inspired entirely by something Lisbon said in the episode "Paint it Red". When Van Pelt claimed Jane had called in sick, Lisbon said, "Jane never gets sick." That very night, I sat up in bed, literally until one in the morning, typing the majority of this fic. I went back to it a day later, just to make a few small revisions. And to think, this started out as the simple thought of how cute it would be if Jane woke up one morning, all sick and sniffly. (On the bright side, I found out how much fun it is to write about someone who has a stuffy nose! Seriously!) You see what can happen when my mind wanders? It's dangerous, I tell you! As far as future fics are concerned... I'm not planning anything related to The Mentalist. Sorry. But, we all know how quickly that can change, don't we? (FYI, I do like Jane/Lisbon, and... I don't yet know how I feel about Rigsby/Van Pelt.) Well, anyway, back to my life. I think I'm going to go watch House now! XD I've done enough "real" work for tonight. (It's finals week... ugh! Studying!) Ah, well. I hope you enjoy the randomness that spouted from my brain at one in the morning!

**Disclaimer: **Hey! And... The Mentalist gets added to the long list of things I do not own! Not that I care too much... just give me Jane! The rest can lay in a dump for all I care! (Hehe, okay, that was mean. Sorry. The others are cool too.)

Never Say Never

Patrick Jane woke with a start.

Then he realized that he had indeed woken up, which meant that at some point, he had fallen asleep. He was just beginning to ponder this when he thought of something else. He didn't know what had woken him up in the first place. However, this answer quickly became apparent as he repeated the action.

_"Hatchoo!"_

Patrick fell back onto his mattress with a cough and a groan. He couldn't believe it. He was sick. He, Patrick Jane, was sick.

* * *

Teresa Lisbon walked briskly into the office.

"We have a new case," she announced, holding up a file. "Twenty-three year old female was stabbed and – " she stopped mid-sentence as she looked up and realized that not everyone was present. "Where's Jane?"

"Oh, he called in sick," Van Pelt answered.

"What?" Lisbon asked, her tone disbelieving. "Oh, come on, he's faking it."

"I don't know," Van Pelt said. "He sounded pretty bad over the phone."

But Lisbon shook her head. "Jane never gets sick." She pulled out her cell phone.

* * *

Ten minutes later, Patrick Jane showed up at the office, looking tired and disheveled. His clothes were wrinkled and disorderly, as if they had been thrown on in a hurry. His skin was pale, making his flushed cheeks, red nose, and the bruise-colored circles under his eyes all the more prominent. He sniffed loudly and cleared his throat.

"So, wad's ub, Lisbid?" he asked stuffily.

The others stared at him, dumbfounded. Lisbon cleared her throat.

"As I was saying, twenty-three year old female stabbed and dumped in an alleyway…"

Jane flopped onto the couch and soon found himself dozing off, not hearing a word Lisbon was saying. Were it not for intermittent coughing, he might have fallen asleep.

"… What do you think, Jane? Jane? Jane!"

"Huh?" Jane's head snapped up. "Uh, yeah, sounds good. Wad do we ha… ha…" he trailed off. His eyelids fluttered closed, and his nose wrinkled. "Hah… _hah… HATCHOO!" _Jane sniffed pathetically, one hand covering his mouth and nose.

"Bless you," said Van Pelt and Cho simultaneously.

"Gesundheit," Rigsby chimed in.

"Do you hab a tissue, Lisbid?" Jane asked, his red-rimmed, baby blue eyes imploring. He sniffed again.

Lisbon scowled and handed Jane a box of tissues.

"Thags," he responded gratefully, before pulling three tissues out of the box and blowing his nose loudly. Then he wadded up the tissues and tossed them into the nearest trash can. "Dow, wad was I sayig?" He coughed. "Oh yeah, wad do we hab for ebidence?"

"I said that two minutes ago. Right before I moved on to suspects."

"Oh. Suspects. Right."

Lisbon sighed. "Anyway, as I was saying, I – where are you going?"

Jane had gotten up from his chair. "Bathroob," he said. "You can keeb goig without be." He stood, his legs wobbling for a moment before he gained his balance, then turned and walked down the hallway.

Van Pelt looked at Lisbon. "He seems really sick. Maybe you should send him home."

"I told you, he's faking it. Oh, come on, you guys aren't seriously buying into his act, are you?"

They heard a muffled, _"HATCHOO!"_ from the direction of the men's bathroom.

Van Pelt, Cho, and Rigsby just stared at Lisbon, who sighed exasperatedly.  
"Come on, guys, this is _Jane_. This is what he does. He _wants _you to think he's sick so that you'll feel sorry for him."

"Whatever you say, boss," muttered Rigsby.

Jane came back then, walking slowly and somewhat unsteadily. His eyes seemed to have lost their focus. He put his hand on a desk to steady himself. "Li… Lisbid…" he murmured. Then his eyes rolled back, and he collapsed with a loud crash and lay still on the floor.

"Jane!" Van Pelt exclaimed.

"Oh, please, he's faking it!" Lisbon replied. But she looked uncertain. "Jane? Jane?" A note of concerned filled her voice.

Van Pelt hurried to the fallen detective's side. She placed a hand on his forehead. "He's burning up!"

"You can't fake that," Rigsby muttered.

"Well, don't just stand there, move him to the couch!" Lisbon practically shouted.

_Jane walked slowly, deliberately up the stairs, taking one step at a time. He knew where he was going. And, more importantly, he knew what he was going to find when he got there._

"_No... No, I don't want to go there! I don't want to see this!" he said. _

_But his body wouldn't listen. He continued to move forward, up the steps, he was at the top now. Now he was walking down the white hallway._

_A paralyzing terror gripped him. He couldn't stop. He had no control over his body. He wanted to scream._

_He reached the door, saw the note taped to it. He didn't want to go into the room. He knew what he would see. But his hand moved of its own accord, turning the doorknob._

_There it was. The face on the wall, painted in blood, smiling at him, mocking him, terrifying him._

"_Ja-ane!" called a voice._

_Jane spun around. He looked from side to side frantically, but saw no one. The voice was coming from all around him._

"_Ja-ane!" it called again, mocking him. "I'm coming for you, Jane! Jane!"_

_No… NO! NO!_

"NO! NO!"

"Jane!" Lisbon practically screamed, as she shook the man roughly.

"NO!" Jane shouted again, before his eyes snapped open. He gasped and began to cough, hard. Gagging violently, he rolled onto his stomach and vomited over the side of the couch, nearly in Lisbon's lap.

"Shh," Lisbon murmured soothingly as Jane's breathing slowed to normal. "Calm down, it's okay." She pushed Jane back onto the couch and pressed a cool cloth to his forehead.

"S-sorry," Jane said hoarsely.

"Don't worry about it. Rigsby will clean it up."

A ghost of a smile twitched Jane's lips for a brief moment. "Could I – " He coughed again, and swallowed roughly. "Water… please?" he croaked.

Van Pelt hurried to get him a glass of water. Jane took it and drank gratefully.

"Thags."

"No problem."

Jane shifted, pushing himself up with his arms so that he was half-sitting.

"Careful, don't move too much," Lisbon warned.

"Ah, don't worry. Ib fide. Ha… hah… _hah… HATCHOO!"_ Jane sneezed loudly.

Lisbon smiled. "For what it's worth, I think I believe you now," she said.

Jane smiled too. "I know."

Lisbon's smile faltered. "Y-you know? What do you mean, you know?"

"I knew you had dis crazy idea dat I neber got sig." He sniffed. "I also knew dat I wouldn't be able to conbince you oderwise unless you actually _saw_ me sig."

"You're saying you knew all this, and you called in sick anyway?" Lisbon asked skeptically.

"Yup. I knew you wouldn't belieb be. So, I figured I'd comb id to work and let you see be for yourself."

"And fainting was all part of this ingenious plan of yours, was it?"

"Yup." Jane sniffed again, and coughed lightly. Lisbon helped him lay back down. He looked like he could fall asleep, except that he was shivering.

"You cold?" Lisbon asked gently.

Jane shrugged. "A little," he admitted. Then he winced.

"What?" asked an alarmed Lisbon.

"Hm? Oh, nothig. Headache."

"Right." Lisbon turned to her team. "Cho, you go find a blanket. There's got to be one somewhere in this building. Van Pelt, go get some painkillers. Oh, and cough syrup. There's bound to be some of that around too. And Rigsby, I was serious when I said you'd clean this up. When you're all done, then you three should get started on the case."

They nodded, Rigsby somewhat reluctantly.

"I take it you're going to babysit Jane," he said.

Lisbon started to nod, but Jane shook his head.

"Ib fide," he protested weakly.

"The hell you are," Lisbon replied. "'Jane never gets sick', my ass."

Jane smiled to himself as he drifted back to sleep.


	2. What Goes Around Comes Around

**A/N:** So, here it is, the unplanned chapter two! This is a thank you to everybody who reviewed, and everyone who asked for a second chapter. And a special shout out to GSRFanatic123 for asking for a second chapter "pretty please with Jisbon on top". That made me smile. So... yeah. Everybody seemed to like it, especially the Rigsby/vomit (LOL!) Let's see... I completely lost my train of thought. There were a couple things I was going to say... GAH! Okay, one is that in a review, someone mentioned that last chapter seemed to be lacking in the Cho department. I'm sorry 'bout that, and I tried to make up for it with this chapter. I think I added more of everybody... at least in the beginning! So this is it, the second (and FINAL) chapter. Seriously, I don't want to add more to it, so please don't ask me too. This one was okay, I like it, and I think it adds more to the story. But any more after this... I don't know, I'm afraid it'll get too tedious, and take away from what I've got here. Sorry, but that's my view on that subject. Yes, I realize it took me a little while to get this up (especially considering the fact that I finished most of it pretty quickly.) But, like i said before, I was hugely busy with finals, and also rehearsal for the musical I'm in. I suppose I could've posted yesterday (a Friday) because I was done with finals, it was a half day, and I had the afternoon and the house to myself. But, rather than do something productive, I watched a little TV, then fell asleep to a movie, and continued to sleep for at least four hours! (It sure was nice.) But now, since finals are done, rehearsal is over for the day, and I'm not going anywhere until seven tonight, I figured you guys have waited long enough. Enjoy part two! -GG17 (PS, Finals went pretty well, in case anyone cares/is curious. The worst one by far was English. The easiest? Hmm... Orchestra or Theatre tech. And the two that were easier than I expected were Spanish and Chem. PPS, also if anyone cares/is curious, the musical we're doing is Oklahoma! and I am in the chorus as well as on the stage crew. Just so I don't get reviews asking me about this stuff!)

**Disclaimer:** STILL do not own Patrick Jane or his coworkers. And I don't have his mad detective skills either... shame.

What Goes Around Comes Around

**A few days later…**

Patrick Jane, having sufficiently recovered from his cold, strode confidently into the office, right on time. All that remained of his prior misery was a slightly reddened nose, and the need for an occasional tissue. His clothes were pressed, his eyes were bright, and he had even returned to his normal sleep pattern – or rather, lack of sleep pattern.

The sight that met his eyes as he entered the office was a familiar one. Cho and Rigsby were having a petty argument about something or other. From what he could see in their body language, Cho was right, and confidently so. Rigsby knew that Cho was right – he had probably known this for over five minutes now – but he wasn't giving up his argument, for fear of looking stupid in front of Van Pelt. The latter was sitting at a desk behind her arguing colleagues and pretending to be annoyed with them, while desperately trying to keep a smile off of her face. She also knew that Rigsby was wrong, but she was amused by him, a fact she was probably denying to herself at that very moment.

Jane sighed contentedly. Yes, it was good to be back to the norm. But something was missing from this otherwise ordinary scene.

"Where's Lisbon?" Jane inquired, interrupting the argument.

Van Pelt, Cho, and Rigsby all looked up, surprised.

"Feeling better?" Van Pelt smiled.

"Much better, thank you," Jane replied politely, with all the charm of a true gentleman.

"Bet Lisbon had something to do with that," Cho muttered to Rigsby, plenty loud enough for Jane and Van Pelt to hear.

"Bet _I_ had something to do with it," Rigsby countered. "Or did you forget who Lisbon forced to clean up after him?"

"Speaking of Lisbon," Jane interrupted, before the two had a chance to start arguing again. "Where is she?"

Everyone shrugged.

"I haven't seen her since she left yesterday," Van Pelt said.

Jane frowned. "It's not like her to be late."

"Maybe she overslept," Rigsby offered, but Jane shook his head as the words had barely left his mouth.

"Lisbon is organized almost to the point of obsessive-compulsiveness, and she's a stickler for rules. She wouldn't just oversleep."

"Everybody has off days," Rigsby mumbled, a feeble attempt to defend his idea.

Then Cho piped up. "You know, she didn't look very good yesterday."

"What do you mean by 'not very good'?" Jane asked, looking a little more concerned than he'd intended.

"Um, well, she seemed tired, that's all. Like, worn out tired, not sleepy tired," replied Cho, a little uncomfortable under Jane's scrutinizing eyes.

"Hm… She didn't feel well… hmm…" Jane murmured to himself. Turning on his heel, he pulled out his cell phone and walked quickly out of the office.

"Wait, where are you going?" called a confused Rigsby.

Jane stepped back into the office just long enough to give a smile and a wink.

"So… where is he going?" Rigsby asked again.

"_Obviously_ he's going to check on Lisbon," Cho said.

"How is that obvious?"

Van Pelt sighed and rolled her eyes as another argument broke out.

* * *

_RING! RING!_

Lisbon groaned. What was that annoying noise? It was ruining the moment. They had just caught Red John. Now, a grinning Jane was asking her to have dinner with him.

_RING! RING!_

The noise continued. It was becoming hard to hear Jane talk. Slowly, his body faded, until he vanished completely.

_RING! RING!_

Lisbon woke with a start. She had the nagging sensation one gets when they realize they were dreaming, but have no idea what they were dreaming about. But she had more important things to worry about. And number one on the 'more important' list was that her phone was ringing. Who in the world would be calling her this early in the morning?

"Hello?" she answered hoarsely. She turned away from the phone and coughed into her elbow.

"Lisbon?"

"_Jane?_"

"Hi." She could _hear_ him smiling patronizingly.

"What do you want, Jane?" Lisbon could barely speak.

"Do you know what time it is?" he asked her.

"No… but I know it's early. My alarm clock hasn't even gone off yet. Why?"

"I'm on my way to your house."

"What?" she exclaimed, her scratchy voice jumping an octave. She coughed again before continuing. Her voice was quiet, so much so that its threatening quality was all but lost. "Jane, if this is about Red John, I swear I'll kill you." Then her tone softened. "Look, I know it's hard for you, but please, at least _try_ to get some sleep. We'll talk more at the office, okay?"

"Lisbon, look at the clock," Jane replied calmly, not reacting to anything she had said. He waited a moment before hearing the exclamation he was expecting.

"What the hell! It's nine fifty-six!"

"Really? My watch says ten-oh-two."

"Stop it, Jane. This isn't funny."

"Don't get up, Lisbon. Just stay where you are; I'm almost there." He sounded as patronizing as ever.

"I said stop it. I can't believe I slept through my alarm!" Jane could hear her moving around, opening dresser drawers. "I'm coming as fast as I can. Tell the others I'll be there soon. Why the hell am I still on the phone with you?"

"Don't hang up, Lisbon. And don't get dressed. Assuming you're wearing pajamas of some sort, that is. Like I said, I'm almost there."

"Wait, what? Why are you coming here?"

"To check on you. The others are worried."

"Well, tell them not to be! I'm fine, I just –" she broke off and coughed again.

"Calm down, Lisbon," Jane said. She could hear something on his end of the phone, a sort of scratching sound.

"Are you having trouble with your phone?" Lisbon asked.

"No. Now, lie back down."

"What if I am lying down?"

"You aren't."

Lisbon sighed exaggeratedly, and walked over to her bed, pushing on it with her hand to make it sound like she was lying down. "Fine. Any other _orders?_"

"You're not lying down," Jane said, his tone so smug it was almost singsong.

"Now how could you possibly know that?"

"Maybe I really am psychic," a voice laughed behind her.

Lisbon screamed hoarsely and dropped her phone as she spun around to face the intruder. Jane was leaning casually against the doorframe, a lopsided smile on his face.

Lisbon's eyes shone with nothing less than fury. This was largely due to the fact that she had been caught in her bedroom, wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt and sweats. The fact that it was _Jane_ who had caught her like this was even more upsetting.

"Relax," Jane said, before Lisbon could say a word. He closed his phone and slipped it into his pocket before walking over to Lisbon.

"What are you doing here?" Lisbon demanded as she knelt to pick up her phone.

"Checking on you, like I said." His appraised her for a moment before making a tutting noise with his tongue. "Lisbon, you don't look so good," he said, sounding like a father teasing a young girl who knows she's done something wrong. Then Jane laughed to himself.

"And what, dare I ask, is so funny?"

"You appear to have a cold, Lisbon." He sighed. "And I thought you never got sick. Oh well. You know what they say. 'What goes around comes around', right?"

Lisbon glared at him. Her stare was broken by another coughing fit.

Jane walked over to her, taking her gently by the arm and leading her to her bed. "Here, lie down. On your side would be best. Lying on your back isn't a good idea when you have a cough. I'll be right back with a glass of water, okay?" And he was out the door before Lisbon could say a word.

"How did you get in here?" Lisbon asked when Jane returned with the water.

Jane shrugged. "The door was unlocked."

"Was not! I locked it last night before I went to bed." She looked at him for a moment. Then she gasped. "You! You picked the lock, didn't you? That was the sound I heard from your phone!"

"Guilty as charged," Jane smiled.

"You're a jerk, you know that? A big, fat jerk!"

"Well, this big fat jerk is the one who's taking care of you, so watch what you say."

"I don't need anyone to take care of me." Lisbon started coughing again.

Jane handed her the glass of water. "Sure you don't."

"You know, it's probably your fault that I'm sick," Lisbon pointed out.

"Oh, I don't doubt that. Of course it's my fault. I'm the one who got sick first, and you're the one who spent the past couple days taking care of me," Jane stated matter-of-factly.

"You make that sound like a bad thing."

"Well, maybe not _bad_, per se. Unnecessary, certainly, but not bad. Of course, if you had just let me stay _home_ like I wanted to, you wouldn't even be sick right now."

Lisbon scowled. "You ungrateful little… Maybe I should throw up in your lap, see how you like it!"

"I didn't throw up in your lap!" Jane protested.

"Close enough!"

"You didn't even clean it up! You made Rigsby do it! If anyone should be angry about my throwing up, it's him!"

Lisbon sighed in defeat and rested her head against her pillow.

Minutes passed in almost complete silence, apart from Lisbon's coughing. After awhile, her eyelids started to droop, and Jane's mind started to wander. Without really realizing what he was doing, he began running his fingers absentmindedly through Lisbon's hair.

"Mmmm…" Lisbon murmured.

"What? Didn't catch that," Jane said.

"I was just wondering…" Lisbon spoke slowly, her speech slurred with sleepiness. "Can I ask you something?"

"You just did," Jane pointed out.

Lisbon sighed. "You know what I mean."

"Sure."

"What were you dreaming about?"

Jane frowned, confused. "When was I dreaming?" he asked, wondering if it was Lisbon who was dreaming, and if she had begun to talk in her sleep.

"The other day, when you were sick. You passed out, and we moved you to the couch, and you had a dream. Well, more like a nightmare."

"Did I now?" Jane asked patronizingly.

"Yeah," Lisbon muttered. "It seemed really bad, too. You kept tossing and turning. And you talked a little bit."

"Really?" This time, Jane's surprise was genuine.

"Mm-hmm. You didn't say much. Mostly it was just the word 'no'. And once you said 'I don't want to'."

"Interesting."

"So, what were you dreaming about?"

Jane looked at her. She looked back expectantly through half-closed eyes.

"You really want to know what I was dreaming about?"

Lisbon nodded.

Jane thought for a moment, then seemed to make up his mind. He sighed. "I was dreaming about Red John."

"What about Red John?"

"About the night I…" Jane stopped, cleared his throat, and continued. "The night I found my family."

"Oh."

"I didn't want to go upstairs, because I knew what I would find. But I couldn't stop. I had no control over my body. And then I saw the note on the door, and I opened it, and there was that face on the wall…" he trailed off.

"Oh," Lisbon said again. "I'm sorry."

Jane smiled. "S'okay. I don't mind."

"Jane? I have another question."

"Shoot."

"Why did you tell me that?"

"Come again?"

"Why did you tell me all that, just now? That's really personal. You never talk about personal stuff."

Jane grinned, a sly look in his eyes. "Because, I know you won't remember any of this conversation. You're half asleep."

"What? I will too remember."

Jane shook his head. "No you won't."

"Yes I will." Lisbon pouted like a two-year-old.

"Go to sleep, Lisbon," Jane said, softly but firmly.

Lisbon, lacking the strength to argue, did as she was told.

* * *

Lisbon woke up feeling much better than she had the day before. Apparently whatever had gotten her sick was just a twenty-four hour bug. She got up slowly, and stretched. She glanced at her clock, making sure she had plenty of time to shower and get to work on time.

Lisbon sat on the edge of her bed, thinking. She remembered Jane taking care of her the day before. At least, she thought he had. But she didn't know for sure. She might have just dreamt it all. Of course he was gone by now. The only signs that he had been there at all were the glass of water on the table next to her bed, and the odd sensation that someone had been playing with her hair.

* * *

Lisbon arrived to work precisely on time, as did Van Pelt, Rigsby, and Cho. Jane was twenty minutes late.

"Jane," Lisbon said, her tone reprimanding.

"Sorry," Jane replied. "I overslept." An obvious lie.

Jane glanced sideways at Lisbon. Their eyes met for a brief moment. That was all the confirmation Lisbon needed to know that it hadn't been a dream. Jane had really been there. She could see it in his eyes.

Casually, he strolled across the room to stand next to Lisbon. "So, what do you say, Lisbon? Next time I'm sick, will you let me stay home?"

"Definitely," Lisbon laughed. "But don't go getting ideas! If you start faking sick, I will personally come to your house and drag your butt into work."

"Yes, ma'am," Jane said seriously.

Lisbon took a breath. "By the way, I just wanted to say thanks," she murmured to him.

"For what?" Jane asked, feigning innocence.

Lisbon just smiled. "You know what… you big, fat jerk."

Jane shrugged. He grinned in that nonchalant manner of his and said, "If you say so."


	3. And Goes Around Again

**A/N:** Okay, so it's taken me forever. I'm very, VERY sorry. I really have no excuses. This was written ages ago. I just always manage to get busy. I've always got something better to do... like homework, or practicing my lines for the play, or thinking about practicing my violin, or watching videos on youtube, or, well, you get the picture. I have a huge problem with procrastination. So, here I am, FINALLY. It's 7:12 on a Tuesday, so I'm doing this quickly so that I can go watch, you guessed it, The Mentalist! I just figured today would be a pretty good day for me to do this, since I've gotten a little taste of my own, uh, sickness. It's my second day home sick from school due to a monster cold that I got for no particular reason over the weekend. A killer cold mixed with spring allergies is, shall we say, not fun. I was sneezing my head off while trying to shop in the mall on Sunday! Which would have been funny were it not for the awful sinus headache I had on Monday, that carried over into today. So, I've missed two days of school, two tests, a violin lesson, and a play rehearsal, and I know for a fact that I'm going to have homework out the wazoo. So, before I go back to school tomorrow and get said homework, I figured I'd add this last chapter. That way, no more excuses! (See how smart I am?) Let's see, there are a couple other things I know I have to mention in this... oh yeah! Okay, I swear I will reply to your reviews! You are not being ignored! I'm just having the same procrastination problems, and well, frankly, there are quite a few of them! Which is in no way a bad thing! You guys are reviewing! (I hope they're good reviews!) So, thank you so much, and I swear I will answer you, just give me some time! And the other thing I wanted to mention was, who saw the episode where Jane was blind? Did you see that faint? That was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen! I mean, that's what they're talking about in books when people describe a person's legs 'falling out from under them'. It was so adorable, I just wanted to rush over and hug him and make sure he was okay. (I think there's something faintly sadistic about the way I enjoyed that so much...) And, of course, watching it, I couldn't help but think, I did that too! That was honestly the mental image I had when I was writing chapter 1! So that made me really happy. Anyway, on to the final chapter of this, uh, "oneshot". Thanks for sticking with it despite my procrastination! You all rock! - GG17

… And Goes Around Again

Rigsby didn't hear his alarm go off, and even if he had, he wouldn't have responded to it. He coughed, groaned, and rolled over in his sleep, attempting to breathe through a very congested nose.

* * *

Cho jerked awake with a sneeze and a groan. He was sick. He couldn't believe it. First Jane, then Lisbon… he didn't know who to blame. Was it Jane's fault for giving him the germs, or Lisbon's fault because she made him come to work? Even if it _was_ Lisbon's fault, she had sort of already paid for it herself. When she got sick, it was only justice, her karma kicking her in the ass. But Cho? Cho had been an innocent bystander. This wasn't justice. This was cruelty, pure and simple. What had he done to deserve this? _Somebody has a seriously messed up sense of humor,_ Cho thought, as he sneezed again and flopped back onto his bed with a weary sigh.

* * *

Van Pelt overslept. Then, upon waking up and realizing she had overslept, she reacted as expected. In a dignified and productive manner, she promptly freaked out. "Omigosh I'm late!" she exclaimed out loud. She coughed. Her throat was sore. Quickly, Van Pelt jumped out of bed, throwing on some clothes. She proceeded to the bathroom and had begun to brush her hair before she got a good look at herself in the mirror. Her nose and cheeks were bright red, her eyes bloodshot and puffy. "I look like crap," she muttered to herself. She coughed and continued to brush her hair.

* * *

Lisbon walked into the office and frowned. Her eyes traveled around the strangely empty room until they fell upon its single occupant, asleep in his usual spot on the brown sofa.

Her gaze softened as she walked over to Jane and saw the peaceful expression on his face. It was a rare thing for him to actually be asleep, and Lisbon felt bad about waking him.

She leaned over him, shaking his shoulder gently. "Jane," she said in a half-whisper.

His eyes opened immediately. Lisbon quickly straightened, embarrassed.

"Yes, Lisbon?" Jane said. "What is it?" There was no trace of sleepiness in his voice, no sign that he had just woken up.

Unless… no. He couldn't have been awake that whole time… could he? Walking in on a sleeping Jane? What were the odds of that? It was too perfect.

"You're a jerk, you know that?"

"I believe you've said something like that to me before. What did I do this time?" Jane asked innocently.

"You were awake all along, weren't you?" Lisbon said accusingly.

Jane blinked his blue eyes at her. "Was I?"

"Weren't you?"  
Jane shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not. I'm just curious as to why you assume that I was."

Lisbon scowled. If there was one thing she hated most, it was playing mind games with Patrick Jane. "Never mind that. Where is everybody?"

"What do you mean?" asked Jane.

"Rigsby, Cho, and Van Pelt. Where are they?"

"You're asking me as if I know?"

"I thought you might have seen or heard something."

"I was asleep."

"I thought you just said you weren't!"

"No, _you_ said I wasn't," Jane countered. "I never admitted to anything."

Lisbon sighed. "I don't have time for this. If you don't know where everyone is, then get up and help me find out." She turned and stalked away.

Jane got up slowly, stretching. He stifled a yawn and winced slightly as his vertebrae cracked. "What time is it?" he asked.

"Almost ten thirty."

Jane thought for a moment. "Well, Rigsby or Cho being late wouldn't surprise me much. Both of them being late on the same day would be a coincidence, but not unimaginable."

"So you think they're just late?"

"Hold on, I wasn't finished. If it were just Rigsby and Cho, then yes, I'd think they were late. But Van Pelt is also absent. And she's never late. Which is what leads me to assume that the three of them are most likely sick and in bed."

"You think they're sick?" Lisbon asked incredulously.

"Well, all of you were exposed to my germs when you forced me to come in to work. You got sick; it makes sense that the others would get it eventually."

"Jane?" Lisbon said, glaring at him, her voice sugary-sweet.

"Yes?"

"I'm going to give you a five second head start."

"A five second head start before what?" Jane asked warily. He didn't like the murderous look in Lisbon's eyes.

"Before I kill you. One… two…"

Jane turned to make a run for it and immediately bumped into a disheveled and unhealthy-looking Van Pelt.

"Oh, sorry," he said, casting a nervous glance over his shoulder at Lisbon. She appeared to have been distracted by Van Pelt's entrance, enough so that Jane no longer felt the need to run for his life.

"Van Pelt," Lisbon said, surprised.

"Sorry I'b lade, Lisbid," Van Pelt sniffed.

"You look horrible! You shouldn't even be here!"

"I'b fide," Van Pelt responded. She coughed.

"You're sick. Go home and get some rest right now. That's an order. The last thing I need is for me or Jane to get sick _again_." Lisbon looked like she wasn't sure which prospect frightened her more.

Van Pelt nodded. "Alrighd. Sorry." She started to leave, then turned back. "Where are Rigsby and Cho?" she asked.

"Doing the smart thing and staying in bed."

Van Pelt nodded and walked slowly out of the office.

"Well, it looks like it's just you and me today," Jane said brightly. "What do you want to do?"

Lisbon studied him for a moment, her anger returning. "Three… four…"

Jane was out the door and around the corner before she reached five.

* * *

Van Pelt left the office, but she didn't go home. Cho and Rigsby were both at home, sick. Cho could take care of himself, but Rigsby… She was sure that Rigsby was either in intense agony, or completely wasted on cold medicine. And she was willing to bet money on the latter. She stopped at a gas station to buy painkillers, cough syrup, and tea. Then she drove to Rigsby's house.

She let herself in when she got there. "Rigsby?" she called. "Rigsby? It's Van Pelt. I'm coming in. God, I hope you're dressed," she added under her breath. Slowly she walked toward the bedroom, wary of what she might see.

Rigsby lay on his bed, tangled in the sheets. He had been asleep, and was now blinking blearily. He sniffed, coughed, and looked around the room, before eyeing Van Pelt. He appeared disoriented.

"Van Pelt? 'S tha' you?" he slurred.

"Yes," Van Pelt sighed. She spotted a half empty bottle of cough syrup on his nightstand. Yup, just as she had thought, he was definitely wasted on cold medicine. "You look like crap," she said.

"You're not looking so hot yourself," Rigsby commented. After a moment, he seemed to process what he had said. "Not that you're not hot. 'Cause, I mean, you're really hot. You're always hot. And you look like you have a fever, which means you're even hotter. But you don't look very good. I mean – I mean, you don't look –"

Van Pelt cut Rigsby off. "I don't look healthy, I get it."

Rigsby coughed and nodded.

Van Pelt set down the things she had bought at the gas station, and hurried to Rigsby's kitchen. Rigsby heard running water, and then Van Pelt returned with a wet cloth, which she used to wipe Rigsby's face. The cloth was cool and felt good against his feverish skin.

"Van Pelt… I don't need your help. Go home and get some rest. Not that I don't want you here. I just mean – "

"Shh. Just be quiet, will you?"

Rigsby didn't argue. He was too tired, and too wasted.

Van Pelt pulled a chair next to Rigsby's bed and continued to nurse him, carefully stifling her own coughs. Rigsby fell asleep almost immediately, and Van Pelt soon followed.

The next morning, Rigsby woke up surprised, and pleasantly so. He began to run his fingers through Van Pelt's long red hair.

Van Pelt yawned and woke with a start. "Rigsby! What are you doing?"

Rigsby jerked his hand away. "Nothing!"

"Were you just – "

"No!"

"But I was – "

"No you weren't!"

"I'm leaving!"

Van Pelt stood and left the house in a rush, not once looking back, leaving a slightly forlorn Rigsby to wonder just what had happened. But Rigsby, being who he was, shrugged, decided he was either dreaming or hallucinating, and went back to sleep.

* * *

Lisbon was all too happy when, the next day, Rigsby, Van Pelt, and Cho all showed up for work on time, having all gotten over their colds. Her happiness was short lived, however, when she realized Jane was missing.

She picked up the phone on her desk and dialed a number.

It was answered on the fourth ring.

"Jane," Lisbon said in her best scolding tone.

"Oh, Lisbon. Hi." He coughed.

"Oh no you don't!" Lisbon exclaimed.

"I don't what?" Jane asked. He coughed again.

"You are not sick. And you are going to get your butt in here right _now!_"

"Darn," said a voice from the doorway.

Lisbon jumped and dropped the phone. Jane leaned casually against the door frame, cell phone still held next to his ear.

"And here I thought you'd fall for it." Jane gave his characteristic grin as he slipped his phone into his pocket.

Lisbon put her phone back on her desk and glared at Jane threateningly.

There wasn't a hint of mercy in her eyes.

"You are so dead."

**Thus ends chapter 3. That's the last one, I swear, for real this time!** **Please let me know what you think, and sorry once again for taking so long. I will answer your reviews, even if it takes me awhile!**


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